The Darkness and What Came Before It
by Meg Harper
Summary: What happened to Charlie Shepard and Garrus and the rest of the Normandy's crew before the Reapers invaded? Well, you're about to find out. 'What Came Before It' is a set of vignettes about just that. Will be updated as I see fit. Companion piece to 'What Came After It.'
1. Choke

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**_Greetings, dear readers and welcome to "The Darkness and What Came Before It," an ongoing series of vignettes about what happened to Charlie and Garrus and the rest of the crew before the events of "The Darkness and What Came After It." I figured it'd be a fun little way to fill y'all in on some things that are referenced in the main story. I probably won't be updating these as frequently, but they're still gonna be pretty fun! I hope you enjoy!

Shepard smashed the butt of her gun in the merc's face. The turian howled in pain, staggering backward into a stack of crates. Shepard seized this opportunity to hit him with a biotically charged punch, the energy manifesting in her fist as a flash of crackling blue light. Groaning, he slumped to the floor.

"I think you might have hurt him a little."

Shepard spun around, her heart pounding in her chest. She lowered her weapon when she saw who it was. The distinctive voice should have been a dead giveaway.

"Garrus," she breathed. "You have got to stop doing that. Especially when we're on the job."

"What, making jokes? Sorry, Commander. It's a coping mechanism. Moreau gave me a few pointers." Garrus said playfully, leaning on the barrel of his rifle.

Despite having gotten assaulted by a band of pissed off Blue Suns and nearly taking shrapnel to the leg, Shepard managed a small smile. Not only was Garrus a tactical expert and one of the best shots in the galaxy, he had a habit of making her smile no matter the occasion. It was an amazing ability and Shepard was grateful for it.

She didn't smile often, but when she did, it was almost always because of Garrus. Still, they had a mission to finish. They had to focus.

"That's not what I meant." She said. She scanned the dark warehouse for their third party member. "Where's Jack?"

Garrus shrugged. "I'm sure she's around here somewhere. Probably off disemboweling some poor merc with her bare hands."

"We need to find her—"

"I'm right here!" Jack charged out of the shadows, mouth twisted in an unsurprising scowl. Blood spattered her face like a tattoo. She glared at Garrus. "And, yeah. I was doing exactly what you said. Felt pretty good, actually."

"At least you're doing your job." Shepard muttered, holstering her rifle. She tucked her hair behind her ear. "As long as we're all accounted for, we should move out. Looks like we're done here."

They navigated the warehouse carefully, slowly. Mercs liked to hide in dark places and pop out at any given moment. Which is exactly what one did as soon as Shepard rounded a corner. She barely had time to react. The batarian came out of nowhere, tackling Shepard to the ground. The wind rushed from her lungs and her vision blurred. She flailed and kicked, but the merc seized her by the throat and squeezed, sucking the life out of her with every choking second.

Darkness closed in. A voice in the back of Shepard's head screamed in protest. No, this was not how she was going to go. This was not how she was going to die. She was going to defeat the Collectors and get old and buy a house in the mountains back on Earth. She wasn't going to die. She couldn't. She had too much she needed to—

The shot pierced her blackening thoughts, exploded into her subconsciousness. The pressure around her neck lessened before falling away completely. Shepard gasped as the darkness receded. The warehouse materialized into view, along with Garrus's scarred face. God, what a welcome sight he was.

"Shepard," Garrus urged, hands on either side of her face. His skin was rough. In a good way. "Are you all right?"

Shepard tried nodding, but moving her head resulted in a tsunami of dizziness. "Yeah," she said instead. "I'm—I'm fine. Just—Just help me up. I'm fine."

Garrus did as he was told, hoisting her to her feet. She swayed unsteadily, but he was there to catch her if she needed. He was always there.

"Thanks." She said, voice hoarse. Her gaze fell to the dead batarian. A single bullet wound to the back of the head. Garrus's handiwork.

"No problem." He replied quietly. "But I'd appreciate it if you didn't do that again. You really know how to scare a guy, Shepard."

"I can't promise anything." Shepard laughed. She pressed her lips together, realizing that Garrus still hadn't removed his hand from her waist.

"Are you two done?" Jack cut in. She appeared to be angry, but Shepard knew the woman well enough to know when she was faking it. She was just as concerned as Garrus was. "Or should I leave so you can have at it behind the crates?"

Garrus pulled away first. He cleared his throat, turning to face the warehouse entrance. Shepard took a tentative step forward. No dizziness. They were good to go.

"We're fine." She said firmly, sneaking a peek at Garrus out of the corner of her eye. He was embarrassed. "Let's go."

Jack threw her hands up in celebration. "Finally! I'm tired of this fucking place." When she walked past Shepard, she paused to whisper in her ear, a rare, mischievous smile on her face. "Call me when you've set the wedding date."

"What did she say?" Garrus asked once Jack was out of earshot.

"Nothing." Shepard replied, and went to catch up with Jack.


	2. Rage

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Make sure to have your dentist on call, because you're going to get a cavity from reading this. It's ridiculously sweet and a little corny.

Shepard untangled herself from the sheets and went to retrieve the book from her desk. It was a slim volume, but within its relatively few pages was all the beauty Earth's best writers had to offer. Pressing it close to her chest, she returned to the bed. Garrus wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. Smiling drowsily, Shepard settled back, relishing in his warmth, his touch, his sheer presence. The turian was a constant reminder that, no matter how bad things got, she'd never be alone in facing them.

"Ooh, are we having story time?" Garrus murmured. Shepard could almost hear the laughter in his voice.

She opened the book to a dog eared page. "I guess you could say that. I just figured that with…everything going on, we could use a little…encouragement."

Garrus made a thoughtful noise, brushing her hair away from her neck. A delicious shiver danced down Shepard's spine as he gently nipped her skin. "You're all the encouragement I need. The promise of galaxy wide fame after all this is over doesn't hurt, either."

"Glad I've been able to help." Shepard replied honestly. Any measure of comfort she could give Garrus was worth all the strife, all the hardship. He deserved happiness, and if she was the one who made him happy…Well, that was a definite bonus. "But, seriously, there's this poem…I think you'd like it. It's one of my favorites."

Garrus glanced over Shepard's shoulder at the book. "Do not go gentle into that good night." He read. "I like it already."

"Told you," she said. She picked up where he left off, grinning as he whispered the words along with her. "Old age should rave and burn at the close of day. Rage—"

"—Rage against the dying of the light." Garrus finished. He paused for a moment, staring intently at the page, then said, "I can see why this is one of your favorites. You don't go gently into anything. You've got the whole rage thing down, too."

Shepard laughed. She pressed a kiss to the faded scars raking his cheek. "I've got a lot to be angry about. First Saren, now the Collectors. The Reapers…"

"Yeah, but..." Garrus took the book from Shepard's hands and closed it, putting it down on the nightstand beside the bed. He held her even tighter against the hard column of his body, as if doing so would somehow make everything right again. "You defeated Saren. And you're going to defeat the Collectors. As for the Reapers? Those self-righteous bastards don't stand a chance. Not against you."

Shepard wished she could believe that. The truth of the matter was that she had no idea what was coming next. She had no idea what the Reapers were planning, floating out there in dark space. She had no idea and having no idea about anything _terrified_ her. She had an entire galaxy sitting on her shoulders and what was she doing? Sitting in bed and reading poetry.

"Shepard?"

She was sitting in bed and reading poetry. Human colonies were being disappearing in droves. No one knew why. And she was sitting in bed and—

"Shepard?"

Reading poetry.

"Charlie!"

Shepard blinked. The use of her first name was enough to break her downward spiral. She forced herself to look Garrus in the eye. She loved his eyes, even if one of them was always obscured by that damn visor. "Do you really think we can do this, Garrus? Do you really think we can defeat the Collectors? The Reapers?"

Garrus didn't hesitate. "Yeah. I do. It won't be easy, of course. You don't deal in easy. But can we do it? Can _you_ do it? Yes. I know you can. You were born to do this, Shepard."

Shepard turned in his arms, straddling his lap. Her fingers skimmed the rim of his visor until they found a minuscule button that she assumed served as some sort of off switch. The data feeds and whatever else Garrus kept loaded on the visor blinked off.

"What do you think you were born to do, Garrus?" She asked quietly.

"I never really thought about it." He admitted just as quietly. "If you had asked me this a few years ago, I would have told you that my purpose in life was to piss of my dad."

Shepard bit her lip to keep from laughing. "What about now?"

Garrus, having gotten a whole lot bolder after their first time "blowing off steam," seized her by the waist, pulling her even closer. "Maybe it's to follow you around?"

"And you're okay with that?"

Once again, Garrus Vakarian hadn't a moment's hesitation. "I don't know what it is about you, Shepard. Maybe it's your insatiable need to help every damn person in the galaxy…Or maybe it's your hair. Or your waist—which still looks _very_ supportive, by the way—Or maybe it's something else…But you make people want to follow you. You make _me_ want to follow you. And I…I've never been more okay with anything in my entire life."

His impromptu speech stole her breath away. What was she supposed to say to that? How was she supposed to react? No one treated her like Garrus did. No one told her things like he did. No one…made her feel like he did.

"You don't miss C-Sec?" She said stupidly. "Being bored?"

"No," he replied. "Not one bit."


	3. Drunk

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Even Commander Shepard needs to just get drunk and talk about boys sometimes. This was SO fun to write. I hope you like it.

Shepard didn't know what possessed her to invite half the crew up to her cabin for a drink. They'd just gotten back from retrieving the Reaper IFF and everyone was on edge. The Collectors were on the move, always one step ahead, and human colonies were vanishing with each passing day. It probably wasn't the best time for a night of drunken revelry, but Shepard knew damn good and well that it might be the only time they had. They'd be hitting the Omega 4 relay soon. What lurked beyond it was the possibility of death, and if Shepard was going to die, she was going to die satisfied and happy with her achievements.

Or at least a little drunk.

She poured herself another glass of brandy and passed the bottle over to Dr. Chakwas, who eyed it wearily before snatching it from the Commander's hands.

"Let's hope the Collectors decide to take tomorrow off." The doctor joked as she drank.

Shepard laughed, shaking her head at the thought. The Collectors never "took a day off," and, therefore, neither did she. Rest was a precious resource, peace an even rarer one. It was nice to sit down for once, take some time to herself. The alcohol helped, too. She'd worked up a good buzz, the kind of buzz that helped you forget the things you didn't want to remember. The kind of buzz that loosened your tongue and made you want to say things you never would otherwise. Shepard didn't get drunk often, but when she did…

It was Miranda's turn with the bottle. She poured a small amount of brandy in her glass and sipped, grey eyes flickering around the crowded cabin. "This is quite the party you've assembled, Shepard." She said.

"Only the best." Shepard replied.

Dr. Chakwas raised her glass. "I think that that deserves a toast."

The rest of the cabin agreed.

"To the best!" Dr. Chakwas announced. "May we always be superior!"

Six glasses clanked together in wordless solidarity. Shepard couldn't help but smiled as she watched her crew drain their drinks. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the all too real possibility of dying within the next few days, but Shepard couldn't have imagined going into this mission with anyone else. Dr. Chakwas, Miranda, Tali, Samara, Kelly Chambers, even Jack. They weren't just her crew anymore. They were family. Sisters. Shepard always wanted a sister.

"This shit is weak." Jack mumbled from her seat at Shepard's desk. The rest of them had opted to crowd on the bed, but Jack, ever the rebel, had to sit apart from everyone else. Shepard didn't mind. The woman needed her space and she'd get it. She deserved it.

"I don't think it's—it's _weak_. Er—_shit. _Er…What did you say?" Tali slurred, swaying as she sucked the turian wine from her straw. She'd bought it on their last trip to the Citadel and said she'd been saving it for a "special occasion." Since she was the only one in the cabin who could drink it without getting a horrible rash, she was far drunker than the rest of them by a light year. Had it been anyone else, Shepard might've gotten annoyed, but with Tali, the slurring and the swaying was simply endearing.

"You're going to be so fucking sick tomorrow." Jack snorted.

Shepard had to squint a bit, but she swore she saw something of a smile on the other woman's face. Nothing like free alcohol to bring even the most distant of crewmembers together.

"Are you saying something?" Tali asked. She attempted to get up, only to fall back down to the bed a few unsteady seconds later. "Did—did you do something to my suit?"

Jack rolled her eyes. "I don't need to rip into that suit of yours to know you're gonna have a massive hangover. Honestly, have you ever gotten drunk?"

"Not—not _really._" Tali confessed. "This—this wine is _very_ strong, though."

"We can tell." Miranda said. She placed a hand on Tali's shoulder and, for a moment, the icy mask she always wore melted away, revealing genuine concern. "You should slow down. Better yet, you should stop."

Shepard leaned back against the wall of pillows propped up behind her. "I'm with Miranda on this one, Tali. You should slow down."

Tali sighed loudly. She shoved the rest of her wine at Miranda. "Aye-aye, Commander." She said, sounding none too pleased about her orders. "If you say so."

Shepard smiled. "Thanks, Tali."

"Yeah, whatever." She grumbled.

The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable. It wasn't awkward. It wasn't heavy. It simply…was. No one attempted to fill it with pointless words or trivial questions. They didn't need to. It just went to show how the crew had bonded during all this time. They didn't need words to communicate. Hell, they didn't need to communicate at all. All they needed was a few bottles of wine and a place to sit and they were set.

"Commander," Samara spoke up for the first time since their gathering.

Everyone turned to look at her, Shepard included.

"Yeah?" She asked, feeling slightly dizzy. She leaned over Kelly's lap to put her empty glass on the nightstand beside the bed. No more brandy for the night. She was drunk enough.

Samara, who sat cross legged at the foot of the bed, lifted her striking blue gaze to meet Shepard's. "Forgive me if it is too personal, but…What is your first name?"

Shepard blinked. Did she really not know? Judging by the rest of the crew's reactions, they didn't know, either. Huh. "Charlie." She said. "That's my first name."

"Charlie? Really?" Kelly piped up. Her cheeks were red from the brandy. "I like it."

"Is it short for something?" Miranda asked.

"That's classified information." Shepard said. No one needed to know what her full name was. Garrus knew, but he wasn't here, so Shepard's drowsy brain rationalized that he didn't count.

"You'd tell Garrus." Jack said suddenly.

Again, the cabin went silent. This silence wasn't as easy as the first. No, this silence was _awkward as hell_. Shepard felt a flush of heat crawl up her neck. Jack knew. Jack knew and she was going to tell everyone right here, right now. Damn it.

Shepard put on her best Commander face and looked Jack straight in the eye. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not dumb, Shepard." Jack got up from her chair and did something Shepard never expected her to do. She sat down on the bed. Right between Tali and Miranda. "You're hopelessly in love with the guy. It's sort of disgusting."

"You're in love with Garrus?" Kelly grabbed Shepard by the arm, grinning hugely. "I knew it! I so knew it! Don't you remember? Didn't I tell you? I told you that the two of you would make such a cute couple and I was right!"

Shepard wrenched her arm away, shooting Jack a pointed glare. "I'm not in love with Garrus."

…Or was she? Would that really be so bad? He made her laugh, he made her smile, he was loyal, he was funny, he was…

"G—Garrus?" Tali sputtered. "But he's so—"

"Annoying?" Jack supplied. She was having way too much fun with this.

"Sexy?" Kelly said at the exact same time.

The two women exchanged confused glances. Jack smirked.

"Watch out, Shepard. Chambers here might give you a run for your money."

Kelly turned even redder than before. "I'm not going to—"

"I think Garrus is a fine young man." Samara said. "Certainly worthy of your affections, Shepard. And I…I must say, I've noticed a few things, too."

Commander Charlie Shepard was the first human Spectre, an established marine in the Alliance military, and a font of Prothean knowledge, but all the tactical experience in the world wasn't helping her now. Defeat a malevolent Reaper and a brainwashed turian? No problem. But could she talk about her love life? Absolutely not.

"Is it really that obvious?" Shepard was almost afraid to ask.

Six heads nodded. Oh, God. It was worse than she thought. Shepard bit back a groan, burying her face in her hands. This was embarrassing. She was their Commander. She had to save the galaxy. She had to stop the Collectors and the Reapers. She shouldn't have been spending all her free time "blowing off steam" with Garrus. They'd tried so hard to keep it a secret. The crew didn't need to be distracted by their leader's choice in bedmates.

"We don't mind, Shepard." Miranda said quietly. "If our approval is what you're looking for."

"It's not that," Shepard began. "I just—"

"If there is anyone in this galaxy who deserves happiness, it is you, Commander." Samara said. Murmurs of agreement went up around the cabin. "He _does_ make you happy, yes?"

Shepard smiled in spite of herself. Her mind wandered to those stolen nights with Garrus, the precious moments that were no one else's but their own. The poetry, the cheap alcohol, the kisses, the quiet…Was that happiness? It felt like it.

"Yeah," she decided. "He does."

"I always knew the two of you would end up together." Dr. Chakwas mused. "I knew it from the very beginning. He was always asking you for your opinion on everything. It was very cute. And now, he has become an extremely competent man. That stunt he pulled on Omega was very brave. A little rash, maybe. But brave."

"He's always _staring_ at you." Tali said, pointing her finger in Shepard's direction. "You don't notice because you're too busy saving the galaxy, but _I _do. It's like you're the only thing he sees."

"That's so romantic." Kelly sighed.

"It's dangerous." Shepard muttered. If Garrus was always staring at her, that meant he wasn't paying attention to the mission. She'd have to have a talk with him about that later.

"You should have seen them on Omega the other day." Jack crossed her legs and launched into the action packed story of the batarian merc nearly choking Shepard to death. There were gasps, there was laughter, even a few hiccups. When the story was done and Jack had finished off the last of the brandy, the women of the Normandy SR-2 headed back to their respective places, thanking Shepard for the night off.

After they had all gone and Shepard was finally alone, she collapsed into bed, staring up at the ceiling. She loved Garrus. He loved her. The crew didn't care.

"Shepard?"

A feminine, slightly monotone voice jarred the Commander from her thoughts.

"EDI?" She sat up in the bed. "Is something wrong?"

"No," EDI's disembodied voice said. "Nothing is wrong. I just wanted to tell you that Garrus is on his way up to your cabin. I overheard him saying something about a party he'd missed."

There it was again, that stupid grin that only Garrus made her do.

"Thanks, EDI. Make sure to let him in."

"Understood, Commander."


End file.
